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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25507066">One of These Days</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/tanawrites/pseuds/tanawrites'>tanawrites</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>RuPaul's Drag Race RPF</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/F</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 05:13:18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>5,984</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25507066</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/tanawrites/pseuds/tanawrites</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Adore knows there’s nothing poetic or easy about being in love with her best friend.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Bianca Del Rio/Danny Noriega | Adore Delano</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>34</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>One of These Days</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>back with another trope, this time from Adore's perspective. let me know what you think!!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>-</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>When Adore met Bianca the first week of her freshman year, the air around her changed. It didn’t feel as heavy anymore, like something had shifted. Anything that possibly could align, did so perfectly. Bianca moved like she carried mountains on her shoulders, head held high but when her eyes strayed and locked on Adore’s in the middle of the hallway, an almost audible sound clicked into place; like it was intended to be that way all along.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Adore didn’t put a lot of merit into fate or coincidence, her heart already having experienced the inevitable break after the promise of forever shattered her family home. Whatever led her to Bianca, made Adore believe in something, even if it was sheer dumb luck. It was unexplainable between them. They were so different; Adore was a muddle of barely contained chaos and insecurity and Bianca with all the passion of someone who would throw her heart into anything she loved but all the fear of someone who was hidden behind walls higher than the mountains she moved. Nothing could compare to how they understood each other, when words didn’t come easy or saying them out loud didn’t feel like enough.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She’d never had a </span>
  <em>
    <span>best friend </span>
  </em>
  <span>until Bianca. Someone to squish into her bed with, pressed from shoulder to ankle. Sometimes with their hands clasped between them and talking until Adore’s mother peaked her head in to tell them to go to sleep. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>As they got older,  it was Bianca pulling up to take Adore to her prom after Adore made a throwaway comment about wanting to go, corsage and all. It was spinning around the dancefloor and Bianca dipping Adore dramatically, even though she’d always hated other people staring. It was Bianca understanding everything Adore couldn’t say out loud. It was every inside joke, everytime Bianca answered the phone at seven in the morning to see Adore’s outfit or eat cereal on FaceTime. It was Bianca teaching Adore that her beauty was not skin deep, that her suffering didn’t mean she wasn’t brave. It was Adore dragging Bianca into the unknown, into living in the moment, into being vulnerable and bare. It was both of them being there when one of them was shaking so badly it felt like the room was spinning.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It was being there through the good, bad and everything in between. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Adore realised she loved Bianca in the summer before her senior year. Bianca had graduated a few weeks ago and since then, the reality of Bianca leaving and the weight of the fact that they were about to be apart for the first time in years sunk in. There was a silent promise between them to fill every last moment together. They’d said everything there was to say; Bianca’s mix of relief and fear, Adore’s excitement and the anxieties she tried to keep to herself before Bianca saw straight through her nonchalance. It was the first time the single year between them really made any difference. Adore had a whole year left of high school without her best friend, who had a shiny college acceptance and a plane ticket already booked.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>And this </span>
  <em>
    <span>love. </span>
  </em>
  <span>It had crept up on Adore. It came slow, settling into the silence between them. Bianca had reached across and tucked away some of Adore’s hair, the way she had probably hundreds of times before and for the first time ever, the touch set her alight. It burned, not uncomfortably so and sent a wave of warmth from the top of her head to her toes. She didn’t realise she had been staring until Bianca waved the same hand in front of her face, cackling out a joke that Adore didn’t catch. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Adore was seventeen and she was scared but there was no doubt that </span>
  <em>
    <span>love </span>
  </em>
  <span>was laying right next to her, close enough to touch. She realised it had been staring at her right in the eyes. But it was also her </span>
  <em>
    <span>best friend.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The same night she realised she was in love with Bianca, Adore swore to herself that she’d never act on the feelings that she suddenly felt in every inch of herself. Losing Bianca wouldn’t just be a hard rejection to swallow but it would also mean losing her best friend, a heartbreak she couldn’t recover from and Adore could freely admit to herself that she was too selfish to even consider losing Bianca.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It had hurt at the beginning. Her head (and her heart) was a mess of missing Bianca’s presence, of ache and pining. It didn’t come easy, accepting that she had feelings that could never be reciprocated but it eventually lulled into something that was manageable. Some days it was easier that Bianca was gone, when the sound of her voice was the only reminder of the feelings that stirred low in her stomach. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>By the time Adore had graduated herself and had her bags packed to move into the two-bedroom apartment Bianca had found for them, it didn’t hurt as much. In fact, it only came in waves that were few and far between. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Sometimes it was when Adore was Bianca’s plus one to one of her cousin’s weddings because getting an actual date wasn’t nearly as fun as taking her best friend. Sometimes it was when Bianca was still studying and they were in the library. Adore would glance at Bianca who was meticulous as she poured herself into her work, hunched over the desk and wearing glasses she refused to wear in front of anybody else. When they would catch each other’s gaze from across the room or their shared table and even amongst all the people there, Adore felt like Bianca was the only one to </span>
  <em>
    <span>see </span>
  </em>
  <span>her. When she felt like with a single look, Bianca was speaking directly to her in a language entirely of their own. When she caught her gaze following the curve of Bianca’s lips when she smiled.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Those moments were hard but Adore had become an expert at suppressing those feelings, so much so that some days she even questioned if they were ever there to begin with. Adore spent a lot of her early college years intoxicated enough to keep kissing the wrong people, making rash decisions and doing anything to distract her heart. To distract herself from missing someone who was right in front of her.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>There was only one time that Adore thought maybe Bianca could maybe reciprocate her feelings. Once that Adore let hope inch its way into her heart. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>One night, when their high school graduations were merely a faint memory of missing each other and Skype calls and they were stumbling back to their shared apartment, celebrating the last of Adore’s exams. There was a party later in the week but tonight had been just the two of them, the bar they’d frequented and too many celebratory drinks. Bianca’s head was on her shoulder and Adore was giggling as she attempted to direct them towards the elevator. It made her stumble when she felt Bianca’s hands against her hips grasping and pushing until Adore was flush against the far wall.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Then the room was spinning for entirely different reasons.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I love you so much.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Bianca’s voice was rougher than usual thanks to a generous bartender who’d kept a drink in front of them all night but it was music to Adore’s ears.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I love you too.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Adore’s reply was automatic, it was never a question of loving Bianca. Unconditionally, irrevocably so. Bianca knew her better than anybody, really </span>
  <em>
    <span>knew </span>
  </em>
  <span>her and accepted her, believed in her, who made her feel more like </span>
  <em>
    <span>Adore </span>
  </em>
  <span>than she’d ever felt before. That there was this connection between them that Bianca laughed about whenever Adore brought it up but always agreed, after her teasing. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I </span>
  <em>
    <span>love </span>
  </em>
  <span>you.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Three words were breathed against Adore’s skin, muffled from how Bianca was nuzzling her face against deeper in her neck and her own breath caught in her throat. The way Bianca’s lips were tantalizingly brushing against the columns of her neck wasn’t helping either.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Come on, B. Let’s get you into bed.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It was rare, if ever, that Adore was the voice of reason between them but Bianca was drunk and handsy. It was even less often that Adore was the less intoxicated one out of them. The dust of a kiss against her throat had Adore sobering up fast though and she attempted to haul both of them out of the elevator now they were on their floor.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re not listening to me.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Bianca was obviously displeased but her tone held none of her usual bite so Adore kept pushing until they were in their apartment. She’d managed to wrangle Bianca into her bedroom but as she went to set Bianca down on the bed, Adore felt a persistent hand wrap around her elbow and tug. It sent them both onto the bed in a mess of limbs and Adore winced at the awkward angle her arm was trapped under Bianca in.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Shit, are you hurt?” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Adore’s voice came out panicked and she tried to right herself, pushing up with her free arm but Bianca’s grip was stubborn. She only stopped the frantic movements when Bianca’s familiar cackle silenced her worries.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She sighed, an exasperated sigh but one full of unyielding affection. She was never tired of Bianca.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“This...you...this is </span>
  <em>
    <span>everything.” </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Bianca didn’t even seem like she was talking to her anymore but Adore was following every word, her brain repeating a familiar mantra to her heart to combat the rising hope in her chest. </span>
  <em>
    <span>She doesn’t love you that way. She’s your best friend. That’s enough, that’s more than enough. More than you deserve.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>With Bianca’s forehead pressed to her own and hands that were desperately trying to pull her even closer, it would be all too easy to forget.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Her hand squeezed between them to brush Bianca’s hair out of her eyes, shaking her head.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, yeah. You’re my best friend too, B.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“No, listen.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Now there was Bianca - the one who spoke with a tone that almost dared Adore to argue with her.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“C’mere. I want...I need you. Closer.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The hand that was pulling on the back of her neck, Bianca trying to nudge her cheek further into Adore’s hand that was frozen, hovering near her face. It was all too much, too right and too wrong all at once.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She couldn’t recognise the look in Bianca’s eyes, sometime she hadn’t seen before. That didn’t usually happen. They had years behind them of mapping out every expression, every look, every nervous tick. They knew what every single one meant, even the new ones like how Adore’s fingers were restless when she wanted a cigarette or the steel of Bianca’s shoulders before she said something deflective. But this, whatever was swimming in Bianca’s gaze wasn’t something Adore could read. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Adore swallowed the lump that had formed in her throat. If she truly thought Bianca wanted her, Adore would lay down everything she had, herself included. She would strip away the layers around her heart to say that she was scared and that she didn’t know what love was but it seemed to look a lot like how Bianca’s mouth curved when she called Adore an asshole for running late or how even their deep breaths after laughing too hard seemed to be in sync or how there wasn’t another soul in the whole universe who has ever made Adore half the person she was when she was with Bianca. Or maybe it was before she only believed in love because of Bianca.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>But she had to consider the slur of Bianca’s words, the haze in her eyes. How much they’d had to drink tonight and this was her </span>
  <em>
    <span>best friend.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>This wasn’t anything like she had pictured, all those years ago when she allowed her mind to toy with the idea of </span>
  <em>
    <span>what if </span>
  </em>
  <span>before she realised it was a delicious torture; the sweetest taste of what could be and the sting of what never would. Tonight was nothing like that at all.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It was barely a struggle, Adore knew what she needed to do.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Bianca, let me go get you some water.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>In the next heartbeat, Adore was standing beside the bed. Her hands were shaking so she tucked them behind her back as she started backing towards the door. She interrupted Bianca’s complaints and grabbing hands with a shake of her head.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“We’ll talk in the morning, ok? I promise.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Bianca seemed to be placated by that, knowing neither of them ever broke a promise. At least not to each other.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Adore slipped out of the room and took a few steadying breaths, slumped against the wood. By the time she was back with painkillers and a glass of water, Bianca was fast asleep.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>They don’t talk in the morning. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>-</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>When Bianca introduced Adore to her new girlfriend two weeks later, her whole world was swept out from under her feet.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p><span>Neither of them had ever had a real significant other. There had been flings but boyfriends, girlfriends and one-night-stands alike came and went. Neither of them were the type to settle down. Adore was far too busy chasing anyone</span> <span>who could make her feel</span><em><span> something</span></em><span> and moving on when it didn’t quite fill the space she needed it to.</span></p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Bianca was guarded, never vulnerable and always seemed like she had one foot out the door from the get-go with her relationships.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p><span>It shouldn’t</span> <span>hurt her feelings so much, not with the knowledge of Bianca’s track record tucked away as a silent comfort in the back of her mind. Not with the constant reminder that Bianca had been drinking that night, that she didn’t mean what she said to Adore and that </span><em><span>best friends </span></em><span>was the only label she needed from Bianca.</span></p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Things with Bianca felt raw and vulnerable again after the drunken night that Adore seemed to be the only one to remember. It had been a few weeks and Adore was </span>
  <em>
    <span>still </span>
  </em>
  <span>working through forgetting the neediness of Bianca’s hands, the pure want in her voice.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Those same hands were now curled around a different slim waist in their kitchen and whispering things into somebody else's ear, with blonde hair carefully tucked behind. Adore would usually tease Bianca about it later but right now, hearing Bianca’s casually slip her new relationship status into conversation was turning her stomach. The timing couldn’t be worse. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Courtney was nice. All tan skin, big blue eyes and a humour not dissimilar to her own. If they’d met under other circumstances, Adore knew they would get along. To Bianca’s dismay, Adore often got along with the people who were supposed to be forgotten by morning or at least by the end of the month.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>This time, she was avoiding Bianca’s sharp warning gaze as Adore brushed over the introduction and carried on getting her breakfast.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>-</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Over the next few days, she avoided talking about it every time Bianca attempted to confront her, which was often. She was either late for a shift at her part-time job or busy sending around her resume, now updated with her recent degree so she could </span>
  <em>
    <span>stop </span>
  </em>
  <span>working as a bartender. She even bailed on their weekly movie night, a tradition that stood through their year-long separation in high school, every college finals week, every summer and every holiday break.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She couldn’t look at Bianca without feeling hurt. She was angry; angry at Bianca, angry when Courtney was in their apartment and trying to talk to her. Mostly angry at herself. She’d spent years building up roadblocks and barriers to stop herself feeling this way and it had all come apart in one night.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Eventually after she’d tried to talk to Adore a handful of times, Bianca stormed off with her hands on her hips and muttering about how Adore better be civil since Courtney would be over again soon. The thought of another night listening to Courtney’s poorly stifled giggles through their shared bedroom wall didn’t just hurt, it had Adore’s stomach turning. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Adore was no stranger to running away from her problems. She had run away from her family’s looming issues, from her hometown that neither she or Bianca had returned to since graduating, from her own thoughts and feelings when they were too overwhelming to deal with, from </span>
  <em>
    <span>people </span>
  </em>
  <span>who tried to get too close to her; shying away from anything that she didn’t think she’d be able to recover from. But now, for the first time in their friendship, Adore ran from Bianca. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Her fingers typed out a text before she had the chance to properly consider it, an overnight bag tossed over her shoulder and a brief goodbye to Bianca, sans an explanation for why she suddenly had plans. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>-</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I just don’t see why they have to be there in </span>
  <em>
    <span>my </span>
  </em>
  <span>apartment.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Now </span>
  </em>
  <span>you sound stupid. Don’t you remember all the jokes about Willam’s ass on your kitchen bench?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Adore did remember. It had been after a night of drinking, she and Bianca had split off with their friends. Adore tugged Willam into a club after whining about wanting to dance for the previous hour while everyone else went to a different bar. Bianca didn’t let either of them live it down after she came home to find them, making them both bleach the entire kitchen the next morning while Alaska laughed on the couch as they recounted the story. Bianca hadn’t laughed but it still seemed light-hearted.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It was different, it was </span>
  <em>
    <span>Willam </span>
  </em>
  <span>and they had all been friends for a few years at that point. It meant nothing for either of them. It wasn’t someone new and shiny with an interesting accent and a knack for making Bianca laugh.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Adore groaned into the pillow, the only response she had for Alaska’s drawl. She was basking in her own hypocrisy, stubbornly refusing to admit to herself let alone out loud what she knew from the moment she shrugged off Courtney’s attempt to talk to her.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She had made a choice years ago that nothing was more important than her friendship with Bianca, not her own feelings and especially not the new uncomfortable feelings of jealousy.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>A sigh fell from her lips as Alaska’s hand tugged away the cushion, smoothing down Adore’s mussed hair. She was ready to protest, to moan that she didn’t particularly care just yet if she was in the wrong but Alaska cut her off with a knowing look. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“You could always just tell her, you know.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Tell her what?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“That you love her.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Alaska spoke so matter of fact, glanced so casually at her long manicure that Adore gaped at her for a moment, all self-pity forgotten.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>When the silence between them drew out and Adore realised Alaska wasn’t going to elaborate on it anymore, something Adore usually appreciated about Alaska’s friendship, her jaw snapped shut and she grabbed for the pillow again.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I can’t.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>-</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Don’t push me away, you’re my best friend.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m not- god, Bianca. Just leave it alone.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Adore could count on one hand how many times she and Bianca had fought. Really fought, the kind that left her throat raw and dry. They had all ended the same way, an eventual mutual forgiveness even if they continued to disagree (which they often did) because despite both their stubborn streaks, their friendship ran deeper.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>When she returned from Alaska and Willam’s apartment, her unused bag in her hand and an apology waiting on her lips, she was expecting to have to apologise to Courtney. She </span>
  <em>
    <span>wasn’t </span>
  </em>
  <span>prepared for a pacing Bianca in an otherwise empty apartment and an anger that was palpable. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I know there’s something you’re not telling me!” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>As Bianca’s voice rose, so did Adore’s own temper. Bianca knew her by heart. It was infuriating her that Bianca knew her by heart. That she knew every tell of Adore’s body language, that she knew exactly what to say to antagonise her just enough for Adore to retaliate.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“So fucking what? I don’t have to tell you everything.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The brief flash of hurt across Bianca’s face didn’t last long enough for their fight to diffuse, for Adore to buckle and apologise or for Bianca to admit what she was actually feeling.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Instead it was merely fuel added to the flame and Bianca flung her arms out in exasperation.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Is it something to do with Courtney?” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It was Adore’s turn to see red. Adore always felt in extremes. Like there was electricity running through her veins and anger was no exception to that, all thoughts of making up and apologising had evaporated. Anger came in currents for Adore, crashing around her in outbursts that she would later come to regret but in the moment, nothing could stop her path.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She was too immersed in the fight, in her own emotions to catch herself the way she usually would. Her private feelings were buried deep and neglected and had no place in their arguments but this time, there wasn’t any containing it. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Bianca’s comment had visibly struck a nerve. Before Bianca could register the jealousy swimming in her eyes or pounce on it as a sign of weakness, Adore bit back. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>They both had dangerous mouths. Bianca often found herself in trouble from her sharp, unapologetic tongue. The only difference between them was everything Bianca said was calculated. Adore was pure impulse.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>No </span>
  </em>
  <span>it’s not about your pick of the week. Is there a reason she’s not here? Did she ask you to commit for longer than a month or something?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Adore hadn’t just crossed the line, she had pole-vaulted over it. Their mutual commitment issues were off the table, at least as ammunition in an argument. They both knew each other well enough that it stemmed from something that happened long before they’d met each other, ingrained from some of their first examples of love and commitment and what could be left in its wake. It was reserved for quiet, serious conversations. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Adore ignored the stabs of guilt and continued, before Bianca could get a word in. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>(Before Bianca could say something that would cut Adore a lot deeper.)</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Just, trust me. You don’t want to know so leave it.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Adore was positive of that. If she let her feelings spill out into the space between them, if she held all her yearning and want up to the light. Their friendship couldn’t survive that kind of truth and even with all the love, the purest kind, it would slip away through the tatters of broken trust.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Try me.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Arms crossed over her chest, Bianca steeled herself for the retort. Adore might have been reckless during a fight but not unpredictable. Bianca was equally as stubborn, her hard and cold exterior a stark contrast. She had already weighed the possibilities as she continued to ignite the argument, the flames dancing around both of them now. For a moment she vaguely considered if she’d pushed it too far in trying to get Adore to simply open up to her.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It was too late to backtrack and a stubbornness stopped her anyway. Now Bianca merely felt like a witness now rather than an active party anymore as she watched the frustration rise in Adore’s eyes and knew for sure she’d pushed too much, too soon. Adore’s anger could result in a handful of things. Hot, angry tears that ran silently down her face, yelling that came from deep in her chest or she could get physical. Never with another person, </span>
  <em>
    <span>never </span>
  </em>
  <span>with Bianca but with things. Throwing her phone or punching the wall until her knuckles were bruised and bleeding.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Remember, you fucking asked for it.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>In a single breath, Adore had crossed the distance between them and was standing right in front of Bianca. Before either of them could react, Adore kissed her. She kissed her like Bianca was river and she was dying of thirst. There was an argument in her head but she kissed her hard, because she’d been waiting and wanting to do it for so long.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It wasn’t like her teenage daydreams of holding Bianca’s face delicately, kissing tentatively and gently as they mapped out the uncharted territory.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>This was hard and possessive and above all else, an answer. It wasn’t careful or soft, it was a hand clutching the back of Bianca’s neck and messy, all tongue and teeth. It was Adore begging Bianca to understand and for a moment before she drew away, it felt like Bianca’s hands were gripping her hips just as hard, fingers digging into her skin.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Adore felt her heart break, almost in preparation as she pulled back. She didn’t go far, forehead nearly pressed to Bianca’s. Anger had passed, the burn simmered down to something else. Fear, replacing the currents vibrating her body into something frozen, unmoving.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I nearly told you, once. But when you woke up you didn’t bring it up and…”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Adore’s explanation faded off as Bianca’s hands slipped from her waist and almost as quickly as she had initiated the kiss, Bianca turned and left.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She didn’t say anything.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>-</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The click of the front door echoed and Adore didn’t turn until she stopped hearing the sound. She glanced around the apartment and everything looked exactly the same. Her shoes in a pile by the door next to Bianca’s neatly lined in pairs. A photo of them on the bookshelf from the previous Christmas where Adore pressed their cheeks together and a brightly coloured hat on each of their heads. There was the coffee table they had (painfully) built together and cluttered with knick knacks Adore had begged for them to get at a thrift store. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Everything looked exactly the same but nothing was the same. Not anymore.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Adore’s eyes were locked on the door, not straying from the chipped paint as she counted. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>There wasn’t a particular number she was looking for, just for the handle to turn and for Bianca to </span>
  <em>
    <span>come back. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Not once but twice today, they had walked out on each other. On their friendship.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>This was the exact reason Adore had kept her feelings to herself all these years, to avoid this feeling right here. Like there was something pushing heavily against her chest and for the first time, there was nothing waiting to catch her, no steadying hands or comforting words.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The argument wasn’t at all how it was supposed to happen. On the walk back to their apartment, Adore had practised her speech. Her apology was authentic, the regret for how she had acted clear to her even before the fight. A promise to get along with Bianca’s girlfriend, a silent reassurance to herself that this feeling of hope shadowed by disappointment would eventually fade. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>As seconds turned into minutes, Adore had enough sense to move to the couch before her knees buckled under her weight. She dropped her head to her hands, eyes squeezed shut in an attempt to get the room to stop spinning around her.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Surprisingly, no tears came. Regret had risen and felt trapped in her throat, stopping any noise from escaping. Before Adore succumbed to the pull of the raw emotions that made her want to scream, to wash away any memory of Bianca on her skin as if it would make it hurt less, she pushed herself to her feet again.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She couldn’t stop to think about what it would mean if Bianca didn’t come back or worse, what was inevitably going to happen if Bianca </span>
  <em>
    <span>did </span>
  </em>
  <span>come back.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Adore stopped counting as she wandered around the apartment in search of something to distract her shaking hands. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>-</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“What are you doing?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Bianca’s voice rang over the sound of Adore clanging in the kitchen.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The illusion of normalcy shattered as soon as Bianca rounded the corner to find Adore on the floor, surrounded by the contents of one of their kitchen drawers.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She froze, a spatula in one hand and a whisk she swore neither of them had ever used before in the other. If Bianca was feeling even a fraction of the anxiety Adore was, she didn’t show it. A confused look plagued her expression as she looked between Adore and the clutter around her but Adore couldn’t read anything else on her face.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>That made her even more nervous. She could face Bianca’s anger, the very worst of the wrath but stepping into the unknown? Adore didn’t know how to brace her heart for that.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“You always complain you can never find anything in this drawer.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>A few seconds of silence passed between them and briefly, a flash of amusement curled the corners of Bianca’s lips. It was gone as quickly as it appeared though and Adore considered it to be no more than a habit, years of their fights never being too serious that they couldn’t laugh at each other or themselves if the moment called for it.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“We need to talk.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Adore nodded silently and abandoned the mess of utensils on the floor to follow Bianca to the couch.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>-</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>By the time the both of them were on opposite sides of the couch, bodies turned in to face one another, Adore had lost what little nerve she had left.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>There was a part of her that ached to blubber out an apology, to swear nothing had to change and that she was an idiot for kissing Bianca. There was a bigger part though, one that had started to build up a shield from the whole situation, knowing the hurt was going to come no matter what and that kept her quiet as she attempted to brace for the impact.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“What did you mean </span>
  <em>
    <span>I </span>
  </em>
  <span>didn’t bring it up the next day?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Adore’s gaze lifted, like a glimpse of Bianca would confirm if she heard right. It was her first instinct to question it, to ask Bianca to repeat it and elaborate so that she would have more time to think about her own response. If Bianca’s hard expression was anything to go off, that wasn’t the right move. Adore waited until the words tasted right in her mouth before she spoke.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“When you woke up, we didn’t talk about what had happened. You didn’t...you just made a joke about the bartender and that was it.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“To lighten the mood!”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The outburst was nothing like their earlier fight, an instant apology on Bianca’s lips that Adore brushed over. Her mind was racing as it processed the new information, a welcome distraction from the lingering uneasiness as they started the conversation. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“What are you saying? That...you wanted me to bring it up?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“You were looking at me like somebody had </span>
  <em>
    <span>died </span>
  </em>
  <span>or something and I thought it would make you laugh and relax a little.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Bianca deflected the question, continuing on with her initial explanation, a frown forming between her brows as she spoke.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“B, did you want us to talk about it?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Adore didn’t know whether it was the familiar nickname on her lips or the sudden assertiveness in her tone that stopped Bianca but finally, dark eyes met her gaze again. With a sigh, Adore visibly watched the layers of Bianca’s armour peel back to reveal a candor vulnerability that only emerged when one of them </span>
  <em>
    <span>really </span>
  </em>
  <span>needed it to. This time, Adore didn’t know who it was for more, for her or Bianca herself.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“You promised we would.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>That night weeks ago now, Adore had laid awake for hours. She considered every route the conversation the next morning could go down. Some were promising, others gut-wrenching but she felt ready. At least until Bianca seemingly brushed off her hours of contemplation and concern with a single joke. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It had never occurred to her that Bianca may have been as equally as nervous for the conversation as she was. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She hadn’t been mad at her best friend for dismissing the topic, accepting it as a moment of loneliness or confusion, the lines of their close relationship briefly blurred between friends and lovers. Adore knew she was happy whichever side she ended up on, as long as Bianca would have her.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She was mad at herself now though, as she listened to Bianca lay out the truth between them.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“You promised and then when we didn’t talk, I thought that meant you didn’t feel the same way.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>There was an audible strain in Bianca’s voice, Adore picking up on it immediately. She wanted to reach for Bianca’s hand. Nothing felt too scary to say when they were palm to palm but she hesitated.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It was the most blunt either of them had been yet and it was scary. Falling in love with Bianca was a double-edge sword, no heartbreak comparable to the one of losing your best friend.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>After a moment of conflict, she reached across the distance between them for Bianca’s hand. Their fingers laced together and she sent a reassuring squeeze through the grip, relieved when she received a brush of Bianca’s thumb across her knuckles. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I thought you were trying to be nice about...I don’t know, letting me down gently?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Adore cringed after her admission but watched the relief relax Bianca’s features, letting the tension go from her own shoulders. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“So we’re both idiots.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Duh.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It slipped out before she could stop it, both of them sharing a smile over the familiar sentiment. It was enough for Adore to take a deep breath and speak openly. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I wanted to kiss you back that night but not like that. Not when I wasn’t sure if </span>
  <em>
    <span>you </span>
  </em>
  <span>were sure, if you wanted me like that or not.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Sometimes Adore felt like she spoke in circles, never truly saying what she meant but Bianca was like her personal translator, rarely having to ask questions.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I loved you long before I had the guts to let you know that night.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I-”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“No, Adore. Let me finish. I’m in love with you. That’s what I should have told you that night - or any night before then. I wanted to tell you, really but...I was scared. We both know what that stupid word does to people and I </span>
  <em>
    <span>can’t </span>
  </em>
  <span>lose you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I...I love you too. For a long time but I didn’t tell you either. You’re my </span>
  <em>
    <span>best friend </span>
  </em>
  <span>and I never imagined that you would feel the same and...it’s obvious I’d pick missing out on that chance if it meant I still got to have you around.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Once their admissions had settled in the air between them, neither of them knowing what else to say, Adore couldn’t help but laugh. A relieved, disbelieving sound filling the space. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It didn’t feel like fireworks in her chest once it was out in the open, just like it hadn’t been love at first sight. They were each other’s shoulder to cry on, a faithful comrade through every monster who was too scary to face alone. It was knowing each other’s best and worst habits, the ability to make each other laugh on their darkest nights. It was hearing Bianca’s voice as a lullaby, the raspy tones more comforting than any cradle song from her childhood. Love had never been part of the equation but it came nonetheless, slowly filling her chest with warmth.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Eventually, after Bianca had joined in the laughter, they fell into each other, meeting in a fumbling embrace in the middle of the couch. Adore let her head lull on the back of the couch, gaze turned up toward the ceiling before her eyes fell closed. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“We still need to talk about this...figure out what it all means.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“In the morning?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Adore felt Bianca’s head settle back as well, tilted so their foreheads were slightly touching and she leaned into the contact. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“You promise?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I promise, B.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>This time, they talk in the morning. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>-</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
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